


Out of Sight

by TheBardWhoLives



Series: Through Their Eyes [3]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Blind Eye Society, Gen, Mystery, Prequel, Psychological Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:21:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26274778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBardWhoLives/pseuds/TheBardWhoLives
Summary: Take a fractured look at the events of The Society of the Blind Eye's creation, peak, and downfall of its founder. Experience the madness as he tries to make sense of anything only to find out nothing makes sense in Gravity Falls.
Series: Through Their Eyes [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1936921
Comments: 12
Kudos: 16





	1. Mind

“Mind yourself, and stay out of my business!” Mcgucket snapped at his son as he caught his teenaged boy opening up drawers in his “office”. He hit the garage door button and pointed outside, dismissing Tate. Fiddleford watched as his son pulled his hat down to cover his eyes and stomped off.

“Just wanted to make sure you didn’t have any more plans like when mom left.” Tate sniped at him from over his shoulder in the way only teens and Methodist Grandmothers knew how. Fiddleford did not deign him with a response as he closed the roll down door again, only for the motor to give out.

“Whatta hunka-buncha scrap!” McGucket snapped as he chucked the handful of mail he had been carrying at the broken motor. He flinched as he saw a shape of a triangle briefly among the fluttering letters. However he knew it was just in his mind. Or at least that is what he needed to convince himself as McGucket ran his fingers through the start of a wild beard.  **He** couldn’t come through to this universe… as long as the portal remained closed.

His skin went cold and blanched, he had remembered the portal. Fiddleford had tried to forget that entirely. He hurried to the drawers that Tate had been checking and opened up a secret compartment for the crimson robe. He looked at the symbol on the hood and took a deep breath. Immediately after he hunkered down and scampered like a bizarre creature under the half closed garage door. McGucket ran over the discarded mail as words like FINAL NOTICE and OPEN IMMEDIATELY hovered in his mind. He needed to get to the Museum immediately.

The middle aged man walked into the foyer that led to deep storage of artifacts for the Museum. Fiddleford adjusted his jacket and bowtie. It was the best uniform he could come up with at the time. The only thing that truly mattered was the device in the case he held. He walked downstairs into the entrance hall. Hardly the best place for a secret society meeting but it would have to do. He looked around at the small group of people. Their eyes were full of pain. The pain of knowledge.

“I’ve come with a gift. It will ease the suffering you are enduring. What you’ve seen, will become unseen.” Fiddleford opened the case and pulled out a delicate looking tool. It was in the shape of a gun but made out of shining brass and glimmering glass. McGucket turned on a camera to record the event. “Whoever wishes to be-.”

“That looks like a ray gun man… Like something a Martian would be carrying.” A tall African American teen with the start of some tattoos on his thick arms stepped forward. “I don’t need to believe this junk too. Bad enough I saw some weird cow dudes causing trouble out in the woods. Don’t look at me like I am crazy. They are out there.” There came a flash of light and the teen yelled out as the beam hit the back of his head. He then fell to his knees. McGucket shut off the camera.

“What do you know about cows in the woods?” McGucket asked and the teen frowned in confusion.

“There are no cows in the woods. Cows belong on the farm right?” He rubbed the back of his head and some bits of hair flaked off slightly.

“It has been unseen, who next wishes to forget?” Fiddleford asked as he removed the canister and went to put it down as another young man, his head covered in phrenology style tattoos came up to him.

“Thank you for bringing me into the fold sir, I won’t let you down.” Ivan then closed his eyes as he waited for his turn. Fiddleford reached into the case and grabbed another canister to hold memories.

McGucket looked at the device in front of him. He had not been able to sleep. The portal, the stupid portal and what lay on the other side in the dark. It was too much to think about without wanting to hurl. He was in short supply of buckets as it stood already. Fiddleford began to input the parameters for this test run. He hoped his math was right as he turned on the camera and looked into it. He wanted to keep things recorded for the sake of posterity.

“My name is Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, and I wish to unsee what I have seen.” He touched his chest to keep from getting worked up too much. “For the past year, I have been working as an assistant for a visiting researcher. He has been cataloging his findings about Gravity Falls in a series of journals. I helped him build a machine which he believed had the potential to benefit all mankind, but something went wrong. I decided to quit the project. But I lie awake at night, haunted by the thoughts of what I've done. I believe I have invented a machine that can permanently erase these memories from my mind.”

McGucket raised up the memory gun to the side of his head. “Test subject One: Fiddleford.” He pulled the trigger and when he opened his eyes the room was dark and there was the smell of some acrid smoke. The front of the camera was melted and he wondered if his invention had too much kick. What had he used it on? He read his notes and realized what had happened. McGucket jumped as he heard a knock at his office door.

“Fiddleford, hon. The circuit breaker popped. You aren’t blowing things up in there are you?” A feminine voice called through.

“No trouble, Emma-May. Just some bad wiring is all. I’ll replace the fuses and we’ll be good to go.” McGucket looked down at the memory gun and kissed it, only to burn his lips. So there needed to be some tweaks done. He put the device away and turned to go take care of the lights.

When he attempted to slide the key into the lock he found it no longer was fitting. “Oh what donkey-spit is this?” McGucket complained as he smacked into the door.

“Dad, our stuff is around the side. The house was foreclosed on.” Tate said with a sigh. “I’ve got some friends I can stay with. But you need some help. What happened to you?”

“No, no, it’s just the wrong key. I can’t have lost the house. I was paying for everything… I mean. I have been, right?” McGucket dug through the pockets of his overalls as he pressed his head against the door. “Please make this stop, I just need to get inner. It’s mah house. Where am I s‘posed to go?”

McGucket turned around and looked at the back of his friend. He was thinking hard as per usual, he had his hands clasped behind his back. He still found those extra fingers to be absolutely fascinating. Fiddleford heard a beep and the portal started to go through the initialization cycle.

“We got a stable connection. Got our willing interdimensional traveler?” McGucket asked as he grabbed the test dummy and put the plaster hand on Ford’s shoulder. “This is Stanley the Dummy reporting for duty.” That earned a smile out of the serious man.

“Enough horsing around the two of you. We’re making a huge leap if this works out.” Stanford Pines assured. “Let’s get out there, remember not to get tangled up.” He instructed in his stern manner.

“I know better. We are not amateurs you know. Both of us have our heads on straight. Oops, well one does.” Fiddleford fixed Stanley’s hollow head to be facing correctly as they lugged it out. He was still impressed by the sheer awe the portal inspired. There was a slight suction force that only grew stronger the closer they got.

“Ready, and…” Stanford let go a half second before Fiddleford had a chance too, and as it was sucked up, the return line looped around his wrist and yanked him closer. He could do nothing but scream in terror as he went head first towards what could be his untimely doom. He had a child at home and everything! “What?!” He heard his friend call out as he felt sudden tension on his leg but his head passed through.

It was like being stretched and squashed at the same time. He opened his eyes and he wished he had never had eyes before as he stared at… something. His mind revolted that it could be real as there was a sickening crunch. He screamed and the entity turned towards him. A single ocular orb looked at him with a narrow line for its pupil. It then extended what could be described as a limb for him when he was pulled back through where he landed in a heap.

“What is it? Is it working? What did you see?!” Stanford began to grill him. He shuddered to think about what he had witnessed and he felt someone speaking through his body.

“Ahh! VOTMZRIG IVSKRX OORY.” The words violently erupted from him as he laid there.

“Fiddleford?” Came Pines’ voice showing concern.

“When Gravity Falls and earth becomes sky, fear the beast with just one eye.” McGucket warned cryptically as he tried to get whatever it was out of his head, sitting up and looking around with unfamiliarity of his familiar surroundings.

“Fiddleford, get a hold of yourself, you're not making any sense.” Stanford put his hand on his shoulder, but he jerked away and glared at the man whom he had admired.

“This machine is dangerous. You'll bring about the end of the world with this. Destroy it before it destroys us all!” McGucket could not describe the horrors that awaited on the other side, but he made it sound as dire as he could express. He grabbed the man’s shoulders to hopefully make him see reason.

Now it was Ford’s turn to get defensive. “I can't destroy this; it's my life's work!”

“Yes you can destroy it. You can destroy all of these bad memories if you are willing.” Fiddleford said, his new red robe covered his features as he raised the memory-gun to the new initiate. An aspiring journalist. “Tell us all you wish to unsee. It shall be made so.” The Society of the Blind Eye had a mission, and these secrets would never be allowed to get out.


	2. My

“My goodness, I can’t believe you got this job, son.” McGucket stood outside the shack on the lake. His son looked so much like him but he also saw his boy’s mother in the dour features. Yep, she frowned at him just the same way. He messed with the brim of his big floppy hat.

“Dad… listen I don’t have time for this. You are going to cause trouble.” Tate McGucket folded his arms as he stood over him. McGucket’s hunched form was getting worse every year. The kids around town had taken to calling him Old Man McGucket. It had a nice ring to it.

“I ain’t lookin’ for no trouble. I just wanted to spend time with my boy.” McGucket tried to smile but the missing teeth and gold cap on one was probably less than inspiring.

“No. You can’t try acting like nothing happened. Get out of here before I have to get the spray bottle.” Tate had his walls up and McGucket looked down pitifully.

“I was ah-diggin’ through my piles of stuff and I found this ol’ pitcher. Thought we might reminisce about them good times.” He took the weathered photograph from inside the hat. “Sorry ‘bout the corner my raccoon wife took to nibblin’.”

Tate lifted his hat slightly and looked at the snapshot of the father and son at this very lake when his son was a toddler. His mother was leaning into the frame. He frowned and turned away. “I don’t care. Keep it.”

“B-but son, I wanted yer help… who took this? I don’ rightly recall. I try to and… I feel all funny and weird.” McGucket confessed however his son slammed the door in his face and he sighed. He tried to remember if it had been a friend. His head was hurting.

“Here, just take a drink of this. You’ll feel better.” Stanford Pines was sitting in front of him. There was banging in the other room. “Ignore it. Those steel bars will keep the experiment contained.”

Fiddleford nodded and drank the coffee, feeling the grit of the coffee ground, but it was alright. He needed to calm down. “We need to kill that thing. It’s going to escape. I just know it.” He shook like a vibratory jogger in the lab.

“We can’t just kill it, F. I have a method to cryogenically contain the creature. It just needs some tweaking. But you are asking me to destroy a part of this weird world, one that might be the last of its kind.” Stanford was almost infectiously optimistic when it came to cataloguing and studying the monsters. However, Fiddleford was growing tired of being the one most affected by them.

“But what if it breaks out while you are finishing your work? It could get to the outside world.” McGucket was certain that nothing could stop this monster. It had become him and mocked him before trying to escape.

“Then I trust the security system that we made will stop it. You know I have the utmost faith in our efforts. I trust you with my life.” Stanford smiled sincerely and that eased some of the doubts in his mind. There were still too many questions left unanswered.

“Please promise me that we won’t do anything too dangerous anymore. I want to be able to go home to my family.” Fiddleford saw a flicker of something in his friend’s face but he nodded reassuringly. He wondered what went on inside that brilliant mind of Stanford’s.

“You are out of your mind!” Ivan said in shock and anger; they were by the hidden entrance to the society’s lair. Their robes’ hoods were down and they stood where the eyes all pointed to. Fiddleford was blocking his protégé’s movement.

“It is starting to affect us worse and worse! You don’t know what kind of damage it could ultimately cause!” McGucket shouted back and held his ground. “This society is over, we can’t allow it to go on. Look around the town, these aren’t normal people anymore.”

“We are safeguarding them from the monsters. You are proposing we abandon our mission?” Ivan retorted and prodded Fiddleford’s chest forcefully. “Who will keep them safe? That crackpot you said you worked for? He’s too busy running a tourist trap. He’s got a kid working for him. Is that what you were?”

Fiddleford glared at the bald tattooed man. “Shut your mouth, I don’t know what is going on at the shack. But that is not my concern. I am losing my house. My son hates me and-.”

“Remove those memories of disappointment, sir. Free your son and start fresh.” Ivan said smugly, hoping that it would settle the matter. He did not see the closed fist careening towards his face until it was too late. He reeled back and grabbed at his eye, blinking as it started to swell shut. “YOU MAD MAN! You blinded me!”

“Don’t you ever talk about my son again! I will do anything to protect him!” Fiddleford stood his ground but he also felt a stab of guilt for attacking someone whom he had formed a bond with. “Look, let’s get you to the hospital, they might be able to fix your eye.” He took a softer tone and dropped his guard. So when he was tackled backwards by the larger man his head smacked into the stone button which opened up the hidden passage. He watched as Ivan ran down the steps. He knew immediately what he was going for.

“I know what I need to do. For the good of Gravity Falls!” Ivan’s voice echoed back as McGucket ran down the steps, his legs wobbly after the hit to the noggin. He took a slightly hunched posture to keep his balance.

“We ain’t done anything to stop these monsters! All we're doing is erasin’, and what happens to paper when you rub on it over and over!” McGucket was trying his best to catch up and stop the man before Ivan made any more mistakes.

“I see the world clearly now, thanks to you I know how we must proceed.” Ivan’s voice was distant. Fiddleford got to the bottom of the stairs and ran for the central room. The pedestal which held the memory gun was empty. He swallowed and tried to keep his wits about him.

“You’re more of a fool than I thought! We ain’t needed that badly, the risk is too high for the damage it could cause!” Fiddleford heard some clicking and he wheeled around but the space was empty. He kept glancing between columns for any sign of the man he apprenticed. Why had they gone for this art style anyhow? It screamed evil lair now that he looked at it with unclouded judgement.

“You don’t need to worry. I will make your resignation a peaceful one… just close your eyes and you’ll never have to think about The Society of the Blind Eye again. Out of sight…” Ivan’s voice echoed before McGucket grabbed an empty canister for memories and threw it into the shadows. He was rewarded with an ‘OW’ before he charged the figure. However the man he took to the ground was shorter and had a hideous face.

“What was that for? Are you finally going to listen to my flag football suggestion?” Toby Determined, intrepid intern reporter said excitedly. “Though I figured we’d carve out time in the park. Or we can try it down here. Up to you sir!”

“Oh fiddlesticks!” McGucket swore as he felt the end of the bulb against his head. He had been bamboozled. There was the familiar intense flash of blue light.

“You were eaten by a Gelatinous Rectangular Prism. Sorry F, but the dice were not in your favor tonight.” Stanford consoled him as he picked up a couple cans of Pitt cola until he found a non-empty one on top of the rulebook for DD&MD.

“Daddy got ate!” Tate said enthusiastically as he bounced on Fiddleford’s leg. He was growing up so fast, he wasn’t sure how it was possible.

“Yeah yeah, but if you ain’t careful I’m gonna eat you up!” He teased his son who squealed with delight.

“Hon, dinner’s almost ready. Can you guys get my table cleared off? Oh, Stanford. Will you be joining us tonight?” Emma-May leaned in from the kitchen to the dining room.

“Ummm.” Stanford floundered, but after Fiddleford gave him a pointed look he quickly changed his tune. “Yes of course. We’ll have the table cleaned off in no time.”

“You know you are as good as family right? I mean Tate adores you.” Fiddleford explained to the brainy scientist who just didn’t seem too great with family stuff, and he knew perfectly why.

“I door you!” The toddler agreed wholeheartedly which made Stanford crack a smile.

“I door you too kiddo. But give me a high six and then go get your hands washed up.” The scientist held up his hand to the tyke who jumped up and smacked his palm to the larger one before hurrying off. “I don’t get how that kid sees through all that hair.”

“It is a talent. But…” McGucket dropped his voice. “What were you going to go do before I twisted your arm?” He didn’t like the idea of him alone in that weird shack. There was so much… occult stuff that gave Fiddleford the heebie jeebies.

“Oh just some meditation. You know, clear my mind. Get in touch with my muse for more help on the portal.” Stanford said cheerily; not at all concerned with the possibility of danger. “I’ll stay for dinner. Besides, it is nice to eat something that isn’t beans.” He said as they got the last of the gaming stuff packed away.

“Alright, who’s hungry for beanie weenies?!” Emma-May came in with a Pyrex dish and oven mitts to set it on the table as the two men put down plates and silverware. “You look positively starved, Stanford.” She was a beacon of light in Fiddleford’s life. He wished he could tell her about their work but Stanford had been insistent.

“Oh boy, I sure am.” Stanford spoke through a strained smile as he sat down and looked around inconspicuously; clearly trying to find an avenue of escape. Fiddleford shook his head and smiled at the antics of his best friend.

“Thank you hon. You are an absolute peach.” McGucket said lovingly as they all seated themselves and dug in. He reached over and squeezed his wife’s hand. It was these moments that showed what true family was made of.


	3. Lost

“Lost?” The gas station attendant asked as Fiddleford stood in the dingy Oregon  _ Stop & Fill _ . He was looking at the section of road maps and pondering whether he wanted one for the whole Pacific Northwest area or if he’d be better off just getting the Oregon map. “Buddy? Yoos’kay?”

“Huh? Oh, I was… I am trying to get to this place called Gravity Falls? I don’t see it really on any of my maps.” Fiddleford walked up to the counter, taking in the rugged red haired man.

“Oh Gravity Falls? I got family from out that way. The Tweeds and the Corduroys helped build this area, ya know.” The man said proudly. “I can draw yoos a map, but on the promise if you run into my little cousin Boyish Dan. Yoos tell him Stud says he needs ta visit more.”

“I will do just that.” McGucket was relieved at the friendliness of the area. Once he got his map he returned to the car where he saw Emma-May asleep with little Tate curled up in her arms. He figured it wouldn’t hurt if he stopped somewhere for the night; Stanford would just have to understand. He turned the key and relaxed as the engine still was holding up in his beat up station wagon.

The vibration caused his wife to stir and he turned around to smile at her. He held up the hand drawn map and though she had a moment of trepidation, she nodded. It was clear that this job was going to be paying money and he wouldn’t just be sitting in his garage plucking at banjos while waiting to see if his ideas take off. “I love you, Fiddleford.” He heard her say with complete sincerity.

“I love you like a bullfrog loves a boot.” He said and his weird sayings always made her laugh. Except not this time. She had her bag and was standing in the doorway.

“You say that, but I don’t know who you are anymore. You constantly just up and disappear. You got that job in the junkyard, but where is that going to get us? What about Tate? Where is his future going to be? In this backwoods town? If I get situated before he graduates high school, I want him to come with me.” Emma-May looked hurt and though she asked questions, they both knew he would not answer them. She took off her ring and threw it down.

McGucket was wrecked but he needed something to take his mind off of things; he briefly considered erasing it but… no he needed to be constructive. He went to the phone and called up his job. “Ernie? Yeah it’s McGucket, remember that idea you told me about? Well I’ve got some free time buddy. So do you want to build a pterodactyl-tron or what!” He got a cheer through the earpiece and he hung up. He grabbed his keys and went to walk out the door before he stopped. He looked down at the ring and picked it up to slip into his pocket. “I’ll show her what I can do.” He muttered despondently.

He sat in the back of the police car feeling angry but not sure why. His head hurt from the explosions and the deafening wail of, “ **SHAME! SHAME! SHAME!** ” however he was certain that Ernie got the message. The rotten scoundrel. He scratched his nose and noticed a couple of new warts on it. “Deputy Blubs, y’all got any of that wart cream back at the station?” McGucket asked as he pressed his face against the wire mesh at the back of the squad car.

“We can’t go to the station, you done blew it up you crazy old fool! We’re taking you straight to the jail. You’re lucky you didn’t kill nobody. Woulda made you a lot less likeable if you didn’t just do property damage.” The younger man said. “Man I wish I had a partner to give some cute remarks to what I say. Maybe one day.”

McGucket was confused by the strange musings that the deputy espoused. However he had other thoughts and things hit him as he was launched into the divider and then his feet hit the back of his head; it caused such a crick in his back. He got up and looked to see a line of crimson robed individuals. “I might be a kook, but they are real aren’ they?” McGucket asked, feeling something familiar about it.

“No, I just randomly test the brakes… OF COURSE I SEE THEM!” Deputy Blubs said bitingly. “This ain’t Summerween, get yourselves out of the way. I got important police bidness to attend to.” However the robed individuals did not move. Before they knew it a figure emerged from the darkness and lifted up a weird looking thingamajig. There was a flash of blue light and the deputy sat there looking dazed.

“You mistakenly picked up this individual, and we are here to properly attend to him.” The silky smooth voice of the British Isles informed. McGucket was staring at the symbol on the hood of the individual, it looked familiar and frightening to him. He saw the man smile and open the door so some larger members of whatever group snatched him up. “We really need to break you of this habit, you can’t keep building these things. Come now McGucket.”

“No no! Y’all got the wrong feller! I ain’t done nothin’!” He protested and fought but he was yanked out and a bag was thrown over his head. It smelled like engine oil and baby powder. A weird combination to be sure. However by the time the bag was removed he found himself in a strange temple area. He was in awe of the faint sense of familiarity. Like seeing one of those magic eye pictures; the shape is in there but he wasn’t quite sure where.

“It’s been some time since you were last here. However, you don’t need to worry. We are going to make things all better for you.” That smooth voiced man pulled back his hood and McGucket yelled in shock seeing the tattooed man. “Okay… wow rude. That is hurtful.” He said as he grabbed that device.

Fiddleford frowned and looked out the window of the diner. He watched as Stanford stormed off to his car and peeled off in the thick January snow. The man was too stubborn, but perhaps the fault laid with himself and he was just being overly paranoid. He would try his best to smooth things over the next day. He just hoped his friend would be cautious about the experiment. “Was my secret coffee omelet that bad?” A young woman with a nasally voice asked.

“Oh no, he just… had business to attend to. I think your cookin’ is fantastic.” Fiddleford said reassuringly. In truth it was 50/50… okay maybe closer to 65/35. “But let me get some more coffee before I get ready to brave the elements.” Fiddleford looked at the printed works he had put together to assuage Stanford’s ambitions. It was as good as kindling now.

“Of course darlin’. Hot coffee is my specialty.” Susan wandered off to get a fresh pot. Fiddleford had to agree that the coffee was the one thing worth coming back for. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He felt unsure of the future, he had hoped that Stanford would have seen reason but it was something more than fame and fortune driving him forward. “Here you are, the freshest pot of coffee I got.” She topped off his cup and he could tell it was at least hours old at this point, but she was probably right about it being the freshest.

“Thank you again. I’ll be out of your hair soon.” Fiddleford assured her as he drank his coffee and contemplated the results if their test was successful. It would open up countless worlds of possibilities and resources. However that left him to question the ethics of such a practice. Would it truly be fair to rob another world just to further their own? He would have to ask Stanford that the next time he saw him. He took out his wallet and put down enough to cover for the meals and a fair tip to Susan. He went outside, taking great care not to slip on the ice.

Despite his best efforts the slimy moss was too much and Fiddleford fell on his backside. He grunted in pain as he looked up at the hole many many yards away above him. “F, are you alright? You didn’t get hurt did you?” Stanford poked his head out from the oddly shaped door inside the unidentified craft

“Yeah, just thinkin’ we need some way to get down easier than climbing down. I am pretty certain they had elevators.” Fiddleford complained, though in practice he was more than willing to take care of whatever task set before him. Though handling monsters was out of his job description, and his life description as well. “What if they decide to come back to find the intergalactic version of us putting their car on cinder blocks.” This earned a laugh from Stanford.

“It’s been millions of years, I can assure you without much doubt that they are long dead… probably.” Stanford said with a smile. “Besides, I am certain that they-…” He was silenced as there was a click and an orb started to focus its weapon on Fiddleford as his heart raced in his chest from fear as Stanford finished his thought ironically. “-don’t mind…”


	4. Have

“Have you given anymore thought to my offer?” Fiddleford asked as he looked at Stanford. He was still so full of that vibrant desire to seek out and learn more. They sat at the same diner they had been at nearly thirty years ago, and if Fiddleford’s memory was correct; it was even the same booth. Both men had seen more than their fair share of troubles.

“It is generous but I don’t know if I could ever return on the investment.” Ford spoke with a trepidation that was not like his old self. McGucket wondered briefly if he still was blaming himself for everything after he summoned that demented triangle. He took a deep breath and reached over to pat his friend’s arm.

“I have money to burn, almost literally. ‘sides I need to give you somethin’ to make your trip easier. Else you and your brudder will be rowin’ up north. You should be able to go out there with all the equipment you need or want. I want to be able to say I spared no expense.” Fiddleford remembered that line’s context from the dinosaur movie and grinned with a gap toothed maw.

“What’s so funny?” Stanford asked confused. He took a sip of the coffee and seemed a little taken aback before discreetly spitting the coffee back into the cup.

“Yeah, Susan still hasn’t… improved much. I used to sleep in here some nights, mostly when I got into fights with my raccoon wife.” McGucket let out that manic prospector laugh. He then caught himself and fixed his glasses. “Sorry, still got some quirks.”

“I am not one to talk, I still sleep in on a couch with a rolled up rug against the wall. Though I think Soos and his girlfriend are in talks of making it the master bedroom. Not that I am sure I ever had ever had a bed in that place.” Ford chuckled in self-depreciation. “I almost miss the beds at Backupsmore. Remember that place?” He inquired before pausing and looking dour.

“It is still pretty fuzzy for me. Though you can help me with some of it.” Fiddleford was looking forward to walking down memory lane. Though he knew it’d be a whole other story if he actually went to visit. He figured when Stanford returned the pair could go down together. Still seeing the frown on his friend’s face. “I forgive ya for that mess. I am guilty of a lot of things too, but there are happy moments mixed in. It’s like a sweater bein’ unraveled… but in reverse. I look at your brother and I get hope for me comin’ back.”

“I just was so arrogant… so selfish… so blind. How can you forgive me for the pain I’ve inflicted on people?” Stanford looked at his reflection in the dark coffee before he swirled the contents with a quick motion.

“Like so: Stanford F. Pines, you were an arrogant, selfish, blind butthead who fell for the sweet lies of a monster. But I forgive you since it was you and your family that done beat him. Now you are wanting to go and explore the seas wit’ your brudder to make ammends. How can I be mad at you?” Fiddleford was about to say more when he saw his friend’s eyes getting misty.

“Easy there, no need to cry.” He listened as Emma-May put the iodine on Tate’s scraped chin. He had two cotton balls stuck up his nose to stop the nosebleed. She glanced over at Fiddleford who quickly looked away in shame as he held his arm close to his body. He was more concerned for his son’s state than his own.

“I just… I don’t know how it happened. I was skedaddling along the road when… I blanked out and we hit the car. Please don’t be mad.” McGucket tried to explain but his voice was trembling. “I need to go to the garage.” He said and hurried out, bumping into the doorframe with his broken arm and nearly passing out from the intense fire that seemed to run through the bones into his nerves.

“Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, get your butt back here this instant.” Emma-May said with the authoritative tone she reserved for serious moments. He nodded and returned to the bathroom. He watched her put the adhesive bandage on Tate’s wound and took out the cotton balls to replace with fresh ones. “Go sit on the couch, I’ll make you a big bowl of ice cream once we are done.” She said lovingly to their son before she pulled him into the bathroom and sat him down on the edge of the tub.

“I take full responsasabilify for the accident.” McGucket said quickly before she smacked him across the face and her features were twisted with rage and grief.

“What is wrong with you? Are you sick? Is it… something else?” Emma-May interrogated him as she got a splint kit out to work on his arm. She was not exceedingly gentle but he knew it wasn’t malicious as her hands were shaking so bad after doing her best to keep calm for their son.

“I just have a lot on my mind… this place has been getting worse and worse it feels like. I was a fool to bring y’all up here. I should have gotten work down in Palo Alto.” McGucket felt like he was at a low point. Emma-May put her hand on his cheek which was growing red and marked by her slap.

“I don’t want you to keep secrets from me. I know you had a falling out with your friend but that is no reason to take it out on us. I… I want to go see my mother for a little bit while you look for work. I am not leaving you, but we need some space to breathe and think.” His wife sounded scared and he was not sure if it was for him or **_of_ **him. Neither one filled him with much confidence.

“We don’t… I understand. You know I’ll love ya always. Like a turtle loves hockey.” Fiddleford made himself look into her eyes and though she was still mad he could see that she felt he was telling the truth.

“You dummy.” Emma-May choked out as she finally let the tears flow and he held her. He was exhausted and knew he needed to figure out what was causing his mind to become so frayed. “Just tell me you are still you.” She whispered with her voice trembling.

“After all these years, I finally know who I am. Maybe I messed up in the past, but now that I seen what happened, I can begin to put myself together again.” McGucket said heartfelt as put away the canister with the recordings of his past on it. He then looked around at the group. He then started to slap his various body parts to speak in hamboning: _Thanks for opening my eyes._

“Still don't know what that means. So, wait. You weren't the author, but you worked with him. Do you remember who he was?” The twelve year old boy with the pine tree hat and that funny journal asked him. McGucket focused but it was like looking through a peephole from a telescope a mile off.

“It's beginning to come back, but I need more time.” He assured the boy. He then looked over and saw some snazzy specs. “And reading glasses. Heck!” McGucket put them on, losing a green lens in the process before he leaned on the table and spat into a convenient spittoon. “I got some rememberin' to do.” He stood there pondering as the two girls talked about erasing some painful memories. He got the feeling he was being looked at as an example of how it could go wrong. Not that he minded it too terribly much. It wasn’t the worst thing to happen.

He was looking around frantically at the party in Northwest Manor, he needed to find the boy and tell him. He spotted him speaking to the young heiress but she walked off. He went up and tried to convey his thoughts. “Woo! Scobbity-doo! Hornswaggle m' goat knees!” Okay so maybe he needed to work on that.

Dipper looked at him with a laid back air about him, like things were riding high. “Whoa-ho-ho, what's up, McGucket? Hey-“ He snatched him by the shoulders and pulled him in to a private corner where he could focus more and not cause a scene.

“Dipper!” McGucket put on his broken specs. “I've been lookin' for ya. I fixed the laptop. I been doin' calculations, and I think something terrible is comin'! The apocalypse! The End Times!” He rambled as theatrical as he could. But the preteen was not impressed. In fact he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You know what, McGucket? How about we talk about this stuff tomorrow? It's a party. Let's have some fun for once, huh?” The youth didn’t give him much of a chance to retort as he walked off with far too much pep in his step after hearing the news. It concerned Fiddleford, where had he seen that kind of blasé attitude towards danger before?

“But!” It was too late. McGucket reached into his beard and pulled out the large laptop and opened it up to look at the countdown and the large bold warning of **IMMINENT THREAT**. “Oh, this is bad! Something's coming! Something big!” He watched as the clock ticked away; it was less than 24 hours before they could possibly be beyond help.


	5. I

“I need to start from the beginning.” Fiddleford said into the phone.

“I’ve tried forgettin'. Maybe I should try forgiving. Come here, old friend.” McGucket embraced his long lost friend. It was oddly comforting to feel that extra finger squeeze against him. However Stanford’s brother decided to ruin the moment.

“Hey, good to see you too, bro. Now let's get outta here, huh?” Stanley spoke with all the temperance of Nitrogen Triiodide. However the young lad, Dipper spoke up to get his great uncle’s attention on the matter of the giant evil triangle turned pyramid that was fighting a giant shack robot of his design. As the big feller with the question mark would probably say, _“Looks pretty awesome dude”_. He would be hard to disagree if their lives didn’t depend on it keeping Bill busy.

“You payin’ attention, boy?” His father asked him as he held the heavy flashlight down in the engine compartment. His skinny arm eight year old arm was straining as he tried to keep it held aloft and pointed right.

“Yes’sir.” Fiddleford answered quickly. He saw his father narrow his eyes at him in annoyance and disbelief. He tried to remember what had been said but the man spoke up before then.

“Then hand me the ten millimeter socket I done asked for. I expect you to pull your weight ‘round these parts. I ain’t too keen on having you drift off in that big empty head of yers.” Bass McGucket was not a man to be trifled with. He belched and took another drink of his cola as he worked trying to get the family tow truck back in working order.

“I’mma sorry, sir.” Fiddleford reached over while keeping his arm as steady as he could to hand the socket down for the man to use. Bass finally slid out from under and went into the cab to turn the ignition over. It chugged a couple of times before catching and thundering to life. Fiddleford lowered his arm and felt it ache something terrible. He wanted to tell his father that he didn’t think his patch job would last and he had some ideas about how to fix the engine to better than new. But the man was dead set in his ways, and no one stood up to him.

“You got a lotta nerve sayin’ that to my face, boy.” Bass was nearly a decade older and looked just as stern as he had been while Fiddleford was a boy. However he was not going to be pushed around anymore.

“I do have a lotta nerve, more than anyone else in this family. I am goin’ to college and leavin’ Podunk Tennessee in my dust. So take every tool in the box and stick it up your nose!” Fiddleford turned around and went out the door before his father could get out of his chair at the dinner table. He got in his car and puttered off as the man began screaming after him. He turned the rearview mirror away and just drove into the dusk. He didn’t need anyone.

“Sorry, I should try to find another room…” The awkward young man said in his thicker east coast accent. It was after Fiddleford had exclaimed at his unusual hand when he shook it. He felt terrible but tried to move past it.

“No no, I did not expect it. You are pretty special. Well my cousin Jimmy Jim Junior Senior, he has an extra toe. But never seen fingers like that. Postaxial polydactyly of both hands. Wowzers.” That seemed to catch the bespectacled youth off guard.

“Yeah, I had it since I was… born. I mean, yeah.” McGucket could tell he was floundering and did not seem very well equipped for making friends. “Stanford Filbrick Pines, and your name is?”

“Fiddleford Hardon McGucket, do you take this woman; Emma-May Dixon, to be your lawfully wedded wife?” The preacher said, and he was still staring at the beautiful woman in white across from him with a bouquet of flowers that paled in comparison to her smile.

“Wazzat?” McGucket finally asked the preacher which got a polite laugh from her side of the family and a humorous snort from Stanford who stood behind him in a borrowed suit. He had said he’d ask his father to borrow his tux but… well things happened. “I mean, I do. Yes. Absolutely. I do, I do, I do.” His face went red and soon he was able to slip the ring onto her finger and kiss her.

“Fiddleford… I love you, don’t you ever forget that.” Emma-May whispered as they stood together in their first dance as husband and wife. He found the words caught in his throat as he looked into her brilliant eyes.

“Dad! WATCH OUT!” Tate screamed from the back seat as he blinked and slammed into the side of the car in front of him. He lifted his right arm to catch his son as he was thrown from the back seat. His arm and son smashed against the dash; both hearing and feeling the fracture in Fiddleford’s arm. He held his son who was banged up and bleeding but he was breathing.

“I am sorry… I… I don’t know what happened… when…” McGucket scrambled to make sense of things but it was too difficult. His head screamed as he looked back at the yield sign, and there was no eye there anymore. He had imagined it.

“It was ten years ago, I’ve moved on. You need to too. She’s not coming back.” Tate said bitterly as he stood in the doorway of a mobile home. “Just… stay out of my life.” He watched his son turn his back on him and he looked down at his shaking hands. The ring he had picked up on his way out of the door in the palm with the cast still on it.

“Do you think she’ll pick up if I call?” Fiddleford asked, looking at the ring he had kept hold of for many years since she left. He was a far different man than she had last seen. Though he wasn’t quite the one she had married either. He looked up at his son whom he had finally started to form a bond with again after the literal end of the world, almost.

“I don’t have any idea, I’ve called her on Christmas a few times but she still seems cagey.” Tate said honestly and handed the phone over to him. However when he turned away, Fiddleford took his arm and held him there as he put the phone on speaker. He didn’t want to be alone for this.

“Hello?” A weary voice answered after a couple more rings.

“Emma-May?” Fiddleford asked, his voice unsure but he felt some relief that she had answered. “It’s me… I have Tate with me and we wanted to talk to you.” He waited to hear the click and then the dial-tone.

“Fiddleford? What… what’s going on?” Emma-May asked nervously. He could picture her pinky nail between her teeth as was her tic.

“I got alotta ‘splaining to do. So do you have time to hear me out?” Mcgucket probed and was about to backtrack when Tate spoke up.

“Dad is… is wanting to come clean to you like he did with me.” His son explained and gave him a tenuous smile.

“Yes, I will listen.” He heard the sound of her sitting down into a loveseat as the two of them sat in the rockers on the porch of his new mansion. He took a deep breath and started from the beginning. It was where he had started many times since he had first seen the video of himself testing the memory erasing device on himself. He still stumbled over some blank periods, it wasn’t perfect but it was the truth. He watched the sun dip down over the horizon as he continued. It still felt like so much was unsaid.

“It is good to see you again, Fiddleford.” Stanford said as they sat at the same diner, in the same booth. Summer was just beginning. McGucket could hardly believe how time flew. They looked at the teenager running around taking orders and serving customers.

“Same for you old friend. I know I could have whatever kind of bean or drink I wanted back at my new home… but that girl does make a pretty good pot of coffee.” Fiddleford chuckled as his friend nodded in agreement.

“Only took about thirty years.” Stanford said from behind his coffee cup where he hoped Susan wouldn’t catch him. “Tell me, what sort of weirdness have I missed out on while at sea?”

Fiddleford huffed and shook his head in disbelief. “Straight to business? I didn’t ask you for a report on what you’ve found. You coulda complimented my beard, my clothes, my fancy new spectaclizers.” He adjusted the glasses on his long nose.

“I said you looked handsome when I saw a picture of you two months ago.” Stanford said, cheeks turning dark under his five o’clock shadow. “I don’t need to tell you all the time.” He added a little defensively.

“Oh hornswoggles, I am just yankin’ your chain. Thank you again Stanford.” McGucket smirked and looked out the window. The refurbishing of the damaged library was just about finished. “You’ve missed some excitement but Gravity Falls has ways of the right people sortin’ it all out. Believe you me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for following this experimental story. But I guess I need to come clean; most of my stories are taking place in the same universe. The only one that is non-canon to the world I am making is "It's All My Fault". So feel free to explore and see if you can spot the various connective tissue between them. I have yet to come up with a universe title. So if you have an idea, I'd love to hear.
> 
> Once again, thank you for reading my stories. Be well all.
> 
> This soundtrack isn't quite so thematic with the story, but just serves as a way to expand one's horizons... with some sweet guitar. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4P4L2NKQyAtRSvijJPEi5B?si=h7Mt9wDYQBiIwy3RQNP5cA


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